


Silenced

by eticatka



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: (but not that kind of fluff), Cormoran doesn't accept change easily, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Interior Decorating, Office, Silly, The Farting Sofa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29714592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eticatka/pseuds/eticatka
Summary: "Something was wrong.Or, if not exactly wrong, unusual. The whole interior of the office seemed as it was, but there was something that screamed change and disturbed the familiar picture."
Comments: 27
Kudos: 27





	Silenced

**Author's Note:**

> Silliness ahead!

Something was wrong.

Or, if not exactly wrong, unusual. The whole interior of the office seemed as it was, but there was something that screamed change and disturbed the familiar picture.

Strike took a few steps inside and looked around cautiously, as if treading a murder scene. His eyes swept across the cabinets (untouched), the desks (unmoved), the computers (turned off), the farting sofa—

The farting sofa.

Instead of sporting its famous dark brown mock-leather, it was now covered with an enormous sheepskin rug, yellowish and ridiculously fluffy. The dark accent it created in the room was now gone, absorbed by the lighter colour, and that was what caught Strike’s trained eye the moment he entered the office.

He dropped his weight onto the sofa, expecting it to give out its usual flatulent noise. The sofa was silent. Even though Strike had lost some weight over the past months, he didn’t expect it to have such an immediate effect. He tried wiggling his bottom to different sides, change his position, but the piece of furniture emitted no sound. Silent. _Silenced_.

It felt almost like losing a friend.

So it was a crime scene, after all. Strike lay down on the sofa and began to analyze the mental list of potential suspects: who could afford themselves this unthinkable liberty? Was it an intruder? A mole among the staff? A disappointed client?

His deductive process was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and the duo of Pat’s rasping voice and Barclay’s cheerful one filling the air.

“Ah, this is the rug you were talking about!” Pat exclaimed. “Looks lovely.”

“Aye, ‘hope it also sounds better,” said Barclay. “That is, makes na sound at aw.”

“And a very good morning to both of you,” Strike rose from the sofa, enjoying the look of surprise on his coworkers’ faces. “Care to explain what this all is about?”

“Mornin’, Strike! We didnae notice ye doon there. D’ye like the rug?” Barclay patted the sheepskin as if it was alive. “T’was ma grandpa’s. I inherited it. Sort o’.”

Strike’s first reaction was to snap something rude and throw the bloody rug in Barclay’s face, but he couldn’t allow himself to lose temper in front of Pat. Besides, Robin could enter any moment, and she wouldn’t have approved it. Strike hated to admit it, but her approval mattered to him, probably, more than anything else.

“So it was you who brought it?” he asked cautiously. Barclay nodded. “Alright, but you could ask anybody else’s opinion first, couldn’t you? It’s too a drastic decision to make alone. What if, say, Robin doesn’t like it?”

It wasn’t too bold, to hide behind his partner’s back, but the only alternative was to throw the rug at Barclay’s face, and that, again, wasn’t an option. And if Strike were completely honest with himself, he was ready to put up with the new feature as long as Robin liked it.

“Oh, but it was her idea!” called Pat, while switching on her computer and lighting her e-cig, all at the same time. “Yesterday, while you were tailing Sapphira, Robin interviewed a client in the office. He arrived earlier, so he had to wait on the sofa. He got really nervous, couldn’t sit still, and the sofa farted at every movement he made!”

“Which made him even more nervous than he already was,” guessed Strike.

“Exactly. So when he was gone, I told Robin we had to do something with the sofa, we can’t risk losing clients. I suggested buying a new one, but Robin had a better idea.”

“An’ a cheaper one, too!” Barclay added. “She says, she read it online last week. Turns oot ye can cover leather furniture wi’ somethin’ fluffy an’ heavy, an’ it stops makin’ funny sounds. An’ I say, I’v’ got somethin’ like that, ma old grandpa's sheepskin rug! Now look at it, fits like a glove.”

Feeling defeated, Strike lowered himself onto the sofa again. It wasn’t _that_ bad, this rug. It was just his die-hard nature that could never adjust to change without increased effort. Maybe he could get used to it. Maybe—

“Morning all!”

Robin entered the office, like a breath of spring in a cold autumn morning.

“Christ, is it the rug you were talking about, Sam?”

“Aye. We aw think it’s good!”

_I don’t_ , thought Strike, but remained silent.

“Well, it’s okay,” said Robin, her voice a little less enthusiastic. “But isn’t it too large for this sofa? And, in general—I dunno—it kills off the office atmosphere, doesn’t it? It’s so—fluffy?”

“Wasnae it yer idea?” Barclay sounded surprised, if not offended.

“It was, but I didn’t realise it was _this_ huge and fluffy. Do you like it, Cormoran?”

“Er,” said Strike, who had already begun liking the rug for the sake of Robin and now had to change direction halfway. “I mean, it’s not bad. But you’re probably right. Kills off the atmosphere. Too fluffy.”

“I think we should get a new sofa,” Robin said firmly. “Maybe with an armchair and a coffee table, what do you think? Something simple and decent. Can we arrange it, Pat?”

“I think so, after Sapphira’s husband pays his due. Next week, I s’ppose.”

“Great. Meanwhile, we can keep Sam’s rug as a temporary solution, because, well, it serves the purpose.”

“Don’t worry, Sam, there’s nothing as permanent as temporary solutions in this agency,” Strike said contently.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea while watching Josh Groban's online concert with @CagedNightingale, where, between the songs, the flatulent sounds made by leather furniture were discussed, as well as sheepskin rugs as a means to prevent those sounds :D


End file.
